Whatever it takes
by lilmisblack
Summary: It must be nice, feeling better than everyone else, judging others for things you know nothing about. You still think the world is split between good and evil, between light and darkness, but it is not. The world, life, is not as simple as that"
1. The Spy

She sat alone in a far corner, listening to the others talk with a strange sense of Déjà Vu

Hermione sat alone in a far corner, listening to the others talk with a strange sense of déjà vu. She had heard all that before, countless times, and she knew she would hear it again soon.

Her eyes absently surveyed the room, unconsciously searching for faces she knew weren't there; faces she would never see again.

So many had been lost over the years, so many lives destroyed in a war that seemed to never end.

Her eyes darted back to Dumbledore as he stood up and began speaking, looking at each of them in turn with blue eyes that had lost their twinkling light years before.

They had lost two more the previous night, he informed them. Fields and Burrows. She had barely known them.

In the last few months, many witches and wizards had joined the Order, the decision spurred, in most cases, by the loss of their loved ones. She knew only a handful of them.

For strategic reasons, and to try to keep them safer, Dumbledore had decided to split the Order into smaller groups, each acting independently most of the time, so that only he knew who all of the members were, and what they were working on.

As one of the Order members, Hermione usually took part on the general meetings, along with the remaining members of the original Order, and only met the heads of the smaller groups.

"It is a terrible loss," Dumbledore said solemnly, but they did not die in vain; not only did we gain important information through their work, but we also gained new members for the Order, new fighters for our cause; their brave friends and families."

She heard a few members nod and mutter in agreement, and saw a few others wipe away stray tears, but she couldn't bring herself to feel either way. She had seen too much, lost too much, and the cynical part of her saw a different meaning behind Dumbledore's words. To her, more Order members could only mean more losses; hadn't they already lost enough?

"Are you all right?" someone asked in a soft tone, sitting beside her, and she turned around to face Bill Weasley.

"Yes," she simply replied.

"Did you know them?"

"No, not really. I had only seen them here a few times."

"I worked with them on a few missions," he said, turning back to Dumbledore, although she could see he wasn't really looking. Lost in thought, he spoke again. "They were good wizards; good men."

"Those always seem to be the ones to go first," she replied.

"Sometimes, I wonder if we should even bother," he said softly, when his eyes fell on his twin brothers. "How much worse could this get?"

She didn't want to answer to that, because the truth was, she had wondered that very same thing more than once.

"They will be all right," she assured him, as she watched Fred and George, sitting in a dark corner, away from everybody else, their faces pale, their gazes lost. She couldn't remember the last time she had heard them laugh, or even seen them smile.

"Will they?"

"Hermione," Dumbledore called, just as she was about to answer. She hadn't even noticed that the meeting was over and the others were already getting up.

"Of course," she said, walking through the small crowd as she followed him out of that room and into another one.

"What did…"

"Just a moment," he interrupted, closing the door behind her and warding it against both unwanted visitors and eavesdroppers.

"Sit down," he finally said after a moment, putting his wand away and motioning for the sofa by the fireplace.

"What is it, sir?" she asked, beginning to feel worried. What could he possibly want with her that would require this kind of privacy?

"I am sure you have noticed the fact that many of our missions seem to be failing, as of late," he said, and she nodded. "The losses to our side have increased."

"As have the number of new members."

"Fortunately for us," he said as he sat down across from her. She was about to contradict that, but decided to remain silent. "There are a few things I have noticed myself, as well," he continued, "and although I wish I didn't have to burden you with this knowledge, I am afraid I have to. You are the only one I can trust with this information."

"Information?" she asked, wondering why he believed she was the only one he could trust with it.

"I have come to the conclusion that there is a spy amongst our lines," he said solemnly, his eyes searching hers, trying to measure her reaction to his words.

"A spy?" she repeated, shaking her head slightly. "But I…who?" she finally managed to ask.

"I do not know; that is why I will need your help."

"How can I help?"

"I will need you to keep an eye out for me; you are more likely to notice something strange in one of them than I am. Whoever the spy is, they will be careful around me, but they might let their guard down around another Order member."

"Do you have any idea of who it could be?"

"I do have my suspicions, but it will be better if you are not influenced by them, or you might bypass someone else's behaviour."

"What do you want me to do, if I notice something odd?"

"Nothing; you are to do nothing on your own. If you suspect someone, then you must come to me immediately, and I will do what I consider necessary."

"Just come to you?"

"Yes. It is of the utmost importance that this matter remains between us. As I said before, you are the only one I trust at this moment, and we have to prevent anyone else from learning of our suspicion, or the spy might get away," he said firmly. "Do I have your word that you will do as I ask?"

"Of course," she replied firmly.

"Thank you," he said, slowly getting back up and lifting the wards on the room so that they could leave.

Not sure of what else to say, she silently walked out of the room and into the main hall. Most members had left already, and the few that were still there were sitting around the kitchen table, eating sandwiches.

With a pang of pain in her heart, she remembered what meals at headquarters had been like, back when Molly Weasley had still been alive. She could remember the delicious food the witch always made for them, and the cheerful mood they were usually in as they ate. For those few hours, nothing else mattered; they forgot about war, about their missions, and just had a good time together.

Those days were long gone now, the happiness all but forgotten as they made their way through the days, wondering if they would live to see a new one.

"Are you all right?" she heard Kingsley ask from behind her, and she blinked back the tears the memory had caused before turning to him.

"Sure," she replied simply. They both knew that wasn't the truth, but there was no need to say that out loud.

"You miss them, don't you?" he asked, his dark eyes fixed on hers, his expression calm and reassuring.

"Very much," she said, her tone broken.

There was no more need for words, no need for false reassurance that everything would be all right. Kingsley knew how she felt, because he felt the same way. He had lost people he loved as well; they all had.

"He would have hated to see us all like this," he said.

"Like what?"

"Defeated. He would have wanted us to fight; he would have wanted us to have hope."

"Probably," she said, feeling the tears run down her cheeks.

"You can't give up, Hermione."

"I know," she replied, taking a calming breath and wiping the tears away. "But sometimes I wish I could," she added in a whisper.

She couldn't say anything more or she would break; the strings keeping her together had become too weak. But she knew he understood, knew he wouldn't be upset when she turned around and walked into the kitchen without another word. He understood because he, too, often felt the same way.

"Hungry?" Fred asked when she sat beside him, and she shook her head, moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. He was slightly taller than Ron had been, but it felt just as comfortable.

"Eat," George said, sitting on her other side and handing her a sandwich.

"Not hungry," she muttered, leaving it on the table before hooking her arm with his and pulling him to her.

"You look tired," he said. "When was the last time you slept?"

"When was the last time _you_ slept?" she asked back, and watched him shrug.

"Do you need me to brew more Dreamless Sleep Potion?" she asked them both.

"We still have some left," Fred replied. "It doesn't help much."

"I know," she said.

She had dreams too, nightmares so vivid she often wondered if she was really asleep. The images of those she loved dying, the guilt of knowing she hadn't saved them, although there had been nothing she could have done…no potion took that away.

She didn't bother with words of comfort, and neither did they.

"We are going on a mission tonight," Fred said after a moment.

"Where?"

"Salisbury," George replied. "Dumbledore thinks there will be a Death Eater meeting in an old monastery there in a few days, to recruit more wizards, and he wants us to go and see the place, so we will know it well enough to set them up after the meeting."

"Who is going with you?"

"It will be just the two of us; it's only a reconnaissance mission, nothing dangerous."

"Those seem to be the worse ones," she said, her gaze resting on Tonks, across the room.

"We will be all right," Fred assured her.

"And so will she," George finished, following her gaze.

The change in Tonks had been as big as the change in the twins. The witch was merely a shadow of what she used to be. Her hair was black now, and her eyes always bloodshot, as if she spent her nights crying instead of sleeping. That was probably what she did.

It had been three months since Remus' death, on a mission that, like the ones the twins were going on, had seemed hardly dangerous. But there had been 'complications', and he had been lost, along with the two others that had gone with him. Ever since that day, Tonks had gotten worse, instead of better. She rarely talked to anyone, and moved around the house so slowly she didn't even stumble or trip anymore. She was like a ghost, going through the days without hope.

She tore her eyes away from the witch, feeling the memories of her own loss return to her. She had been so close to ending up like Tonks, so lost in the pain and sorrow, she still wasn't sure how she had managed to move on. Perhaps it had been the fear of losing herself that had actually saved her, if that was what it could be called. She hadn't broken down, hadn't allowed herself to, because there were others that needed her, there were things that had to be done. She had forced herself to keep on fighting, if only for the memory of those that couldn't fight for themselves anymore.

But she was tired, like they all were, and she wasn't sure it was worth it any more. What was there to gain, after all? What would be achieved by finally winning? They had lost most of what they had been fighting for, and had also lost themselves along the way. Would things really change through victory? Could they ever recover, move on with their lives, or would they simply continue to fade away? The thought of another life seemed impossible to her, thoughts of a fool, a utopia so strange she couldn't even dream of.

"Hermione," she heard Fred whisper gently into her ear, and she pushed those thoughts away as she tilted her head slightly to face him.

"We should get going. There are a few things we still have to do before we leave."

"When will you return?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, probably."

"You'll be careful, won't you?"

"Of course," Fred said, and George nodded in agreement.

"Be good while we're gone."

"I will," she said, with a small smile.

Who would have thought they would ever get so close? She had thought them nothing but pranksters, as smart as she knew they were, and they had always thought her bossy and opinionated. Now, they were almost all she had left, their family, or what was left of it, had become her family, and she couldn't imagine her life without them. It was strange how pain and loss could bring people together.

She hugged them tightly, as she always did before they left on a mission, and watched them leave, wanting nothing more than to see them return safely.

She had a mission of her own that night, but she hadn't told them, not wanting them to worry about her. She hadn't told anyone in fact, deciding against it after what Dumbledore had just told her. If he was right, if there was a spy among the Order members, then she didn't want to risk alerting them.

She had followed a Death Eater after a mission a few nights before, and had found out who he was and where he lived. She had been keeping tabs on him since, using a tracking charm she had created for when he Apparated away. She knew it was just a matter of time before he led her somewhere important; a meeting perhaps, or even their headquarters. Either way, she would get something useful out of him. She just hoped she wouldn't have to resort to other tactics, such as Unforgivables.

A few minutes after the twins left, she did the same. She considered telling Kingsley where she was going, perhaps ask for some back up; he was, after all, the team's leader, but what good would another person do when simply tracking? She could ask for help if she needed it; there was no point in keeping someone with her when they could be doing other useful things for the Order.

It was raining outside, the wind blowing so cold it made her shiver even under her thick cloak, the crescent moon barely lighting the night. She was hidden behind a parked car, not wanting to get any closer in case they might notice her. Reaching inside her pocket, she retrieved a pair of Extendable Ears she always kept with her and put them to her ear, the faint voices suddenly becoming much louder.

She had been tracking the Death Eater, Mulland, since she had left the Order's headquarters, and just as she was beginning to think following him was nothing but a waste of time, something strange happened.

The wizard Apparated away and she activated the tracking charm to follow him, but when she got there, he had Apparated again. He was clearly trying to make sure no one was following him, and only seemed to be satisfied after the fifth Apparition. She was glad the charm had proved untraceable so far.

She was surprised to see the Death Eater's final destination seemed to be a dark, deserted alley in what looked like a Muggle town. Not wanting to be seen, she had crouched behind a car parked across from where they were standing. The night was so dark she couldn't see who the others were, but she didn't want to risk getting any closer to them. They were, after all, three Death Eaters, and she didn't know if they were expecting someone else.

After ten minutes of listening to them, she was beginning to wish for a cup of steaming tea and a warm bed. She was cold, her clothes were soaked through, and her muscles sore from crouching. She didn't want to risk them finding her, so she hadn't even cast a charm to protect her from the rain.

Why on earth had they met there? Ever since Mulland had Apparated there, they had been talking about the weather, their families, even the news they had seen on the paper! Were these not self respecting Death Eaters? Shouldn't they be talking about death and pain and evil, and perhaps openly, and loudly, discussing their plans of attack, if only for the benefit of the poor witch spying on them under the rain?

But luck didn't seem to be on her side that night, or that was what she thought until the topic of conversation suddenly changed.

"Where is he?" one of the Death Eaters asked gruffly.

"He should be here by now," another said.

"The Dark Lord told us to wait as long as we had to," Mulland told them sternly. She couldn't recognize his voice through the Extendable Ears, especially not with the wind blowing around them and noise the raindrops made when they hit the car in front of her, but she knew he was the one standing to the left.

"Well, he better bring us some good information on those Muggle lovers, or I swear I am going to hex that bastard half to death for keeping us waiting here under the rain."

Muggle lovers? Information? Could they, perhaps, be waiting there to meet none other that the Order's spy Dumbledore had told her about? Could her luck have suddenly changed so abruptly? Well, if so, that Death Eater definitely wouldn't be the only one to hex the spying bastard that night.

Feeling her heart beat faster, both at the possibility of finding out who the spy was and the rage of knowing someone had betrayed the Order, she tightened her hold on her wand and crouched even lower. Suddenly, neither the wind nor the rain bothered her anymore; her focus was solely on the man standing across the street, and on the one they were expecting.

"Well, it was about time," the Death Eater with the gruff tone said, and they all turned to the figure that had just Apparated a few feet from them.

"What the hell took you so long?" Mulland asked, as the man walked closer to them. He was wearing a long cloak, and the hood over his head hid his face, although she was sure she wouldn't have been able to see him through the night even if he hadn't been covered.

"That is none of your business," the man said briskly, in a voice that sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place.

"The information better be good."

"It is," the man replied confidently.

"Well, get on with it," the gruff Death Eater said. "We don't have all night."

"Of course you don't. I am sure you have a lot of important things to do; you must be high amongst the Death Eaters' ranks. But then again, your Master sent three of you to deal with only one of me…perhaps you are not as good or important as you seem to believe you are."

"You little…" the gruff Death Eater started, lifting his wand to the spy, but then a loud, threatening growl broke through the night, chilling her, and all three Death Eaters took a step away from the man.

"Do you think your Master would mind losing three of his servants?" the man asked, but the others didn't answer.

"The information," Mulland said, almost shyly, after a moment.

"Dumbledore is planning on recruiting witches and wizards abroad. He has already contacted Gailhac in France, and Diermissen in Germany. Now he's sent a team to Pugliese in Italy and one to Russia, to try to convince Svetlana and Andrey Kuznetsov to support him."

"Who are those?"

"That is not for you to know; simply repeat to your Master what I have told you."

"That's it? All the information you have for us is a bunch of foreign wizard's names?"

"You really are as stupid as you look. Just limit yourself to do what you have been ordered to do."

"I do not take orders from you, you filthy…"

Before the wizard could finish the sentence a red flash of light erupted from the spy's wand and hit him square on the chest, sending him flying across the street and landing loudly on top of the car right next to the one Hermione was crouching behind.

The other Death Eater lifted his wand at the spy, but Mulland stopped him.

"Maybe not all of you are that stupid," the spy said, looking at Mulland. Without another word, he turned around, and she knew it was her only chance.

Crawling to the side of the car, she carefully aimed her wand around the car's trunk and muttered the words to the tracking charm. She saw the spy stop mid-step for a fraction of a second, and she felt her hand shake slightly, fearing she had been caught, but a moment later he was walking again, moving away from the Death Eaters before Apparating away.

Tightening her hold on the wand, she followed him.

As soon as she Apparated after him, she knew something was wrong. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't a conscious thought; it was just instinct. But her instincts had saved her life more times than she could count, so she always followed them.

Without even taking a moment to think, she ducked and rolled to the side, barely missing a curse aimed at her. Quickly getting back up and twisting her arm around her, she blindly shot back as she ran for cover.

The spy had clearly known she was following, for he had Apparated to a large, scarcely lit room that was almost bare, not leaving many places to hide and giving him the advantage that came with surprise.

She had to duck again to dodge another curse that hit the wall instead, sending bits of it flying all around her. Not able to see exactly where he was, it was hard to aim right, but she didn't want to light the room or she would give up her position too in the process. Using a Shield Charm to stop the next attack, she conjured a large stone and covered behind it.

The wizard was powerful, but so was she.

Twisting her arm around the rock, she shot a few curses, the range wide as to increase the chances of hitting the target. A low, pained scream was her reward, but it wasn't enough to stop him. She felt more curses hitting the stone in front of her, and she knew the charm wouldn't last long.

Taking a step away from the stone, she did the only thing she could think of at the moment, short of running away. She Disillusioned herself and crawled out of cover and towards the far wall.

A few more curses hit the stone, and she knew the spy hadn't realized she wasn't there anymore; not yet anyway. Keeping her back to the wall, she walked closer to the spot the curses were coming from, finally making out a figure in the dark. Careful as to not make a sound, she walked around him, trying to get close enough to disarm him without taking risks.

She didn't know how he noticed, because she was sure she hadn't made a single sound, but still he suddenly turned to her, his wand aimed straight to her chest, although she knew he couldn't possibly see her through the Disillusionment Charm and the darkness in the room.

"Expelliarmus," she screamed, so fast he didn't have time to fire a curse of his own, and she saw his wand fly from his grasp, clattering loudly as it fell to the floor across the room.

With the adrenaline still pumping, she lifted the Disillusionment Charm and stepped closer to him, keeping her wand aimed directly at his chest.

"Who are you?" she asked, but he did not speak. "Push the hood back," she said, but he did nothing. "Push it back, or I will hex you and then remove it myself," she threatened, taking a step closer to him, and finally his arms moved, his hands grasping the edges of the hood as he slowly pushed it back.

She gasped loudly when she saw his face, framed by red hair she knew only too well, a voice deep inside her screaming it had to be a mistake, a trick, something. There had to be an explanation.

"It can't…it's not possible," she murmured, taking yet another step towards him, needing to take a closer look.

He still didn't speak, keeping his face expressionless as he watched her.

"It can't be you, you'd never…" she muttered softly, shaking her head even as she kept her wand trained at him.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he said softly, taking a step towards her.

"Stay where you are," she said when she saw him move, but he took another step closer to her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said in the same soft tone, his gaze darting from her eyes to the wand she held in her shaking hand.

"Stop. Stay there," she said, her voice weak. He smirked at her. "I'll hex you if I have to," she threatened.

"No, you won't," he said, taking one final step, so that the tip of her wand was almost touching his chest.

"Tell me it isn't you," she all but begged. "Tell me you didn't…"

He moved so fast she barely saw it. One second she had her wand in her hand, the next it was flying out of her grasp, landing somewhere in the darkness.

"No," she gasped, turning around and trying to run away from him, but in a matter of seconds he had caught her, wrapping his strong arms around her from behind, and trapping her arms by her sides. "Let me go," she said, struggling to free herself, but his grip felt like iron around her. "Please, Bill."

"I wish that was possible, love," he said, "but I can't just let you walk away, not with what you know."


	2. The Wolf

Hermione kept struggling against him, kept trying to get away, but she knew she would never be able to free herself; he was too strong.

After a few moments, she felt Bill lean closer to whisper into her ear.

"I wish there was another way," he said, and right then she knew it was her chance.

Although knowing it would hurt like hell, she tilted her head forward a little and then pushed it back as hard as she could, hitting him. Blocking away the pain, she used his momentary distraction to push him back and run, launching herself towards where she had heard her wand clatter. She knew finding the wand was her only chance.

But her attempt to hurt him hadn't been enough, and in a matter of seconds he was after her again. In her haste to find the wand she tripped over a piece of the wall that had been blown away and almost fell, giving him the time he needed to reach her.

She felt the pull at the back of her cloak first but kept moving, twisting her arms to free herself from it. She heard him growl behind her as he threw it to the side and kept running after her. This time, he wound his arm around her waist, making her trip again and fall, with him falling on top of her.

She groaned loudly when she hit the floor, the weight of his body knocking the wind out of her, but she was a fighter, she always had been, and she wasn't going to give up so easily.

She tried kicking, tried elbowing him, even tried to hit him with her head again, but he had her pinned.

"Let go of me," she said, as she twisted under his grasp, trying to free herself.

She felt the weight of his body lift, and she took the chance to crawl from under him, but soon his fingers wrapped around her ankle, stopping her and pulling her back down to him, flipping her over so that now they were facing each other.

"Will you stop that?" he growled, as she started kicking again. "You'll only hurt yourself."

"Just…let me go, please," she said, looking into his eyes, trying to see the Bill she knew in them.

"Stop fighting," he growled, pinning her arms on either side of her head when she started hitting his chest. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're hurting me now," she said, but stopped struggling.

"I can't have you running away like that," he told her. "If I let go of you, will you behave?" he asked, but she looked away from him, refusing to answer. "If you try running again, I will have to hurt you, and I don't want to do that."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't," she said, her tone sarcastic.

"Behave," he repeated, before slowly pushing himself back on his knees. He watched her for a second longer and then stood up, offering her his hand.

Feeling the anger rising inside of her, covering even the fear she was feeling, she quickly got up too, not taking his hand, her eyes locked on his the entire time. She took a tentative step away from him, her eyes darting to the far walls, trying to find a door, and he tensed.

"Don't," he said, his tone low and firm. "You won't get far and you know it."

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? You're the one that followed me here. Did you really think I wouldn't notice the tracking charm? You should know better."

"It is untraceable," she shot back.

"I am sure it is, but there are spells that can detect the casting of any type of charm, you know that. Did you honestly think I would meet Death Eaters unprotected?"

"I didn't think you would ever meet Death Eaters, so I guess I cannot trust my judgement anymore."

"You were not supposed to see that."

"Why, you wanted to fool us all a little longer?" she said, taking another small step away from him, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Hermione," he growled in warning. "Stay where you are."

"Or what?" she asked. "What are you going to do?"

She took another step back, and he took one forward.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to."

"I would expect nothing less from a traitor," she spat hatefully.

"You do not know what you are talking about."

"How could you do it? How could you betray us?"

"Stay where you are, Hermione," he said, his tone firmer as he stepped closer still. She could tell the wall was a few feet behind her, and she was sure she had seen a door there. If only she could get to it…

"I can't believe you're the one spying on the Order." She had to keep him talking, keep him distracted.

"There are many things I think you wouldn't believe; that doesn't make them any less true."

"You have betrayed everything we have been fighting for; you have betrayed everything your family died for."

"Shut up," he growled threateningly, taking two long strides towards her, his hands gripping her shoulders so hard she winced in pain as he walked her back against the wall. "You are talking about things you know nothing about."

"I have been fighting this war since I was a child," she spat angrily at him, trying to push him away, trying to keep his closeness from distracting her. "I have seen my friends and family die fighting against Voldemort."

"You have seen nothing, you know nothing," he said, shaking her hard, as if trying to make her see things his way.

"I saw you tonight, I heard you. You told those Death Eaters the Order's plans. You ruined our chances of getting the help we need to win this war. The war your parents died fighting, the war your brothers and your sister died fighting," she said. She knew the mention of his family would anger him, but she didn't care. If he was going to kill her, then she would give him a piece of her mind before then.

"You are a fool, nothing but a fool," he spat, giving her one last shove before stepping back, his expression feral as he looked at her. "You have no idea what you are fighting for, who you are fighting side by side with."

"I know perfectly well who…"

"Why did you follow me here?" he interrupted.

"I had to see who the traitor was; I knew there was a spy, I just never expected it would be you."

"So you knew there was a spy? Tell me, how did you know that?"

"What?"

"Let me guess," he said, his eyes flashing in anger as he spoke. "_Although I wish I didn't have to burden you with this knowledge, I am afraid I have to."_

"What are you talking about?" she asked. His words sounded strangely familiar.

"_You are the only one I can trust with this information.__"_

Her eyes widened slightly when she realized those were the same words Dumbledore had used that very day, when he had told her there was a spy in the Order.

"_I will need you to keep an eye out for me; you are more likely to notice something strange in one of them than I am.__"_

"How do you know that?"

"He has told that tale to just about every member in the Order."

"No, that's not…"

"Don't you see what he's doing? He's putting us all against each other; he has us spying on the other members for him, so he can know who is dangerous to him and act accordingly."

"That doesn't make any sense," she said, sounding more certain than she felt. "Why would he do something like that?"

"To keep us under his control," he replied. "Dumbledore's not who you think he is."

"So that's your excuse for betraying us? He's probably just worried someone might be leaking information to Voldemort, and not without reason."

"He is no saint, Hermione, and it's about time you see that."

"You are one to talk," she spat. "How many deaths on our side have you caused? How many of our friends died because of you?" she asked, taking a step closer to him, her eyes fixed on his. "What would your mother think?" she said at last, knowing the effect it would have on him.

"Shut up!" he yelled, pushing her back, his fist hitting the wall by her head so hard she could see his knuckles bleeding. "Do not talk about my family," he said, pain mixed with the anger in his expression. "You have no idea."

"Don't I?" she asked. She had seen the doorknob about a yard to her right. She had to distract him long enough to get to it. "Was it because of you, Bill? Was it your information that got them killed?"

"You want to know why they died? I'll tell you why they died," he yelled angrily. "Dumbledore."

"They were killed by Death Eaters," she said. She could still remember the call for help, the Dark Mark floating above the Burrow, high in the sky, when she got there, too late to help them.

"He has you fooled," he told her. "You do not see beyond his words."

"What is there to see?"

"My parents were not 'helpful' for the Order," he said. "Especially not after my father lost his job at the Ministry. But dead…"

"What are you saying?"

"Our family is well known amongst Purebloods, at least amongst those that haven't joined the Dark Lord. The truth was, my parents couldn't do much for Dumbledore alive, but their deaths turned dozens of powerful witches and wizards to the Order."

"That's not…" she started, but she knew it was true, at least part of it. Many Pureblood families had joined the Order after Molly and Arthur's death.

"My wife," he continued, "wasn't especially useful for him either. But her death was good to him as well. When the French government found out one of his most illustrious politician's daughter had been brutally murdered, they became more willing to support the Order's cause."

"Those are just coincidences," she said, although not as sure as she had been before. She could glimpse some truth behind his words.

"Why do you think he has split the Order into small groups?" he asked, and she shook her head. "It is to keep us all under his thumb. He kills everyone who questions him."

"Your family, all the Order members that died, they were killed by Death Eaters, not Dumbledore."

"He may not have been the one to directly kill them, but that doesn't make him any less responsible. How do you explain so many members dying on what should have been safe, easily accomplished missions?"

She watched him in silence, all thoughts of running suddenly forgotten as she listened to his words. It was crazy, it couldn't be true, but deep inside she had the feeling he was right.

"He's a tyrant. Maybe he wasn't always like that, but he is now. All he cares about is power, and will do whatever it takes to have his way."

"Even if that were true, it is no excuse for what you have done. You have sold us out."

"I did what I had to do to protect those I care about."

"You are helping Voldemort, how will that protect anyone?"

"I just want this war to end, can't you see that? It doesn't matter who wins anymore. Do you really think things will be different if Dumbledore defeats him instead?"

"You cannot compare them, they are nothing…"

"They are the same, Hermione," he interrupted angrily. "You have to understand. It's not like it used to be, there are not two opposite sides anymore. They are both the same, and things won't change much for us, whoever wins this war. All we have is those we love, and that is all that should matter to us."

"Your brothers are part of the Order; when you betray us you betray them too."

"Fuck, Hermione, are you even listening to me?" he asked, anger back in his voice as he wrapped his hands around her arms tightly. "Charlie saw this. After my parents were killed, he realized what Dumbledore was doing, who he really was. He started asking questions, started sharing his view with other Order members. Two days later, he and Ginny were killed on a trip to Knockturn Alley, where they had gone to buy some potion ingredients under Dumbledore's orders. Do you think that was simple coincidence?"

"Dumbledore said they had been followed there by Death Eaters."

"How very convenient, wouldn't you agree?" he said. She noticed he seemed to be calming down now that she was listening to him.

"Convenient?"

"Charlie died because he was asking questions, like so many others did. Dumbledore has been systematically killing anyone who stands in his way."

"He wouldn't do that. It was the Death Eaters that killed them, and they respond to Voldemort, not Dumbledore."

"They may be following the Dark Lord's orders, but it is Dumbledore that puts the victims in their way."

"Dark Lord?" she asked angrily. "You call him like his followers do? Are you too much of a coward to call him Voldemort?"

His eyes flashed in anger when he heard her, and he pushed her back against the wall hard, but she wouldn't let him frighten her.

"Did you take his Mark too?" she yelled, reaching for his arm, but he yanked it back before she could roll the sleeve up. "You should be ashamed."

"Ashamed?" he snarled. "You think I should be ashamed? I did what I had to do to protect my family, and I would do it again if I had to. That is the only thing that matters to me."

"And how are you protecting anyone? The information you are giving the enemy will get us all killed, and that includes your brothers."

"I won't let that happen. I would never do anything to hurt them, don't you know that?"

"All I know is that you are a traitor. You have become the very thing we have been fighting for years. You are a Death Eater."

"It must be nice, feeling better than everyone else, judging others for things you know nothing about. You still think the world is split between good and evil, light and darkness, but it is not. The world, life, is not as simple as that."

"But it is. You are a Death Eater, and I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix. What more is there to it?"

"There is no Order of the Phoenix, not anymore. Not since Harry died. You are only part of an army, fighting in the name of things that don't exist anymore."

"Don't you dare talk about him!" she yelled feeling the tears well in her eyes at the thought of him. "He gave his life for all of us; he died fighting for our freedom. You have no right to even mention his name!"

"You are right, he died for what he believed in, but our cause died with him. All we can do now is survive; that's all there's left for us."

"Why are you even bothering with excuses? You said it yourself, you won't let me leave. Why don't you at least tell me the truth?"

"That's what I've been doing," he said angrily. "Everything I've told you is the truth."

"How can I believe you? You are Voldemort's slave, you're a traitor."

"I am no one's slave," he growled, pushing her hard against the wall. "I am loyal to the pack, and if they choose to ally themselves with the Dark Lord, then I will do the same."

"The pack?"

"Yes. They are my family now, too. They protect me, and I am loyal to them."

"Why are you talking about packs? You're not an animal, Bill."

"Aren't I?" he asked, letting go of her and yanking his shirt open, sending a few buttons flying.

She gasped when she saw the mark on his shoulder; she had seen one just like it before. But it couldn't be; it just wasn't possible.

"That's right," he snarled, and she saw his eyes flash amber for a second. "I am an animal."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You were attacked by a werewolf, but you didn't turn. You're not one."

"Oh, but I am. I have been a wolf since that day, when he attacked me. Do you have any idea what it was like, having the wolf inside of me, and no way to set it free? It was a half life, a curse heavier than you can imagine. It was pure torture."

"But I thought…You never…"

"Dumbledore knew, of course," he said, hatred now clear in his voice as he spoke the name. "He knew exactly what I was going through, and didn't move a finger to help me. Nothing."

"You said you were all right."

"He told me not to say anything. He made me believe I would be seen as a monster, that I would lose you all. What I have gone through, all these years, during the full moon, you have no idea."

"If I had known…"

"I was alone," he interrupted. "He had even forbidden Remus to help me. I went to him first, needing to understand, and when Dumbledore found out he threatened to remove us both from the Order. I begged Remus to turn me, but he believed in Dumbledore, he believed he had a reason for not wanting to help me."

"Why would Dumbledore do that?"

"I don't know, and I don't care; not anymore. Remus did help me, though," Bill continued, "in his own way. He offered me the only help he could think of; he guided me to the pack."

"He…"

"He told me where to find them. I had to beg them to turn me, Hermione; beg them to end my suffering, to give me the freedom I needed. And in a way, it cost Remus his life."

"What?"

"Remus was a smart man, Hermione. He might have trusted Dumbledore, but he wasn't blind, and he was no fool. He wondered why Dumbledore refused to help me, and that led him to wonder about other things, like all the strange deaths. Soon, he was asking too many questions, like Charlie had, and he had to be dealt with."

"It can't be true," she said, and felt more tears welling in her eyes. She wasn't sure how it had happened or when, but she was starting to believe Bill's words. Somehow, they made more sense than Dumbledore's explanations.

"I wanted to tell you this, but I couldn't. He would have killed you."

"So your solution was to join the other side? To join Voldemort and become one of his Death Eaters? To do whatever your _pack_ wanted you to?"

"That _pack_, Hermione," he snarled, "is the reason why you are alive."

"What?"

"I already told you we protect our own, and the Death Eaters will stay away from our people in exchange for our help."

"Your people?"

"As long as I help them," he said, taking a step closer to her, "my family lives. They will not harm Percy or the twins. And they will not harm you either."

"Me?"

"I wouldn't let anyone hurt you," he said, his tone softer as he stood inches from her body. His eyes flashed amber again, and she turned her head to the side.

Suddenly, she remembered all the times in the last few months she had survived Death Eater attacks when it had seemed impossibly. Trapped and outnumbered, she had somehow found an opening, a way out, and she knew the same thing had happened to Fred and George, and probably Percy as well. She had been too busy mourning the friends that hadn't been so lucky to think there was more to it. Until now.

"Look at me," Bill said, his fingers on her chin, forcing her to turn to him again. "I wouldn't let anyone hurt you," he repeated.

Could she trust him? Could she trust anything he said? She had heard him with the Death Eaters, had heard him tell them the Order's secrets. How could she…

Suddenly, he leaned closer to her, and her brain seemed to stop working. His eyes were locked on hers, his lips were coming closer. Those full lips she had imagined kissing so many times. And now they were touching hers, so soft, and she wasn't sure what to do. The attraction she had been feeling towards him for years had gotten stronger over the last few months, and now, with him so close…

But it wasn't right; it wasn't how it was supposed to be. She couldn't do it.

"Stop," she whispered against his lips, her hands moving to his chest to push him back even as she cursed herself for sounding so weak.

He looked at her in silence, as if he was waiting for her to say something else, to do something, but she couldn't.

"I don't want to stop," he finally told her, leaning closer to her once more, but she pushed him back before he could kiss her again.

"You think I'm a fool? You think you can charm me into forgetting what I saw? Perhaps you want me to join the Death Eaters as well. I thought you knew me better than that, Bill."

"I'm not…I'm not trying to fool you," he said, running his hands through his hair. He almost looked nervous, but the intensity in his eyes, the way in which he looked at her, that never changed. "I love you, Hermione. I've loved you for so long I can't even remember a time when I didn't."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's the truth. How can you not know it? How can you not have noticed?"

"I…" What could she say to that? It was surreal. So many years watching him from afar, and now he was there, with her, telling her he loved her, but she couldn't believe him. He was a traitor, a spy. He was a Death Eater. He had lied to her for Merlin knew how long. How could she believe him now?

But there was something else, something deep inside her made her want to kiss him again, that made her want to have him, no matter what. It was like instinct, a need to be with him, stronger than anything she had ever felt before, and it was taking all her will power to control herself.

"Why are you playing with me?" she asked. "If you are going to kill me then do it, let's get this over with."

She pushed him away again, and he growled, perhaps in anger, perhaps in frustration. Taking both her hands in his, he roughly pinned her arms to either side of her head and moved closer again, his lips inches from her.

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to understand," he said. "I want you to see the truth."

"Your truth."

"Perhaps, but there certainly is more reality in it than in the truth you have been fed for years."

"I can't trust you, I can't believe you. Not now that I know what you have become."

"A wolf?" he snarled, his eyes flashing in anger once more.

"A Death Eater," she said, her eyes locked on his arm, where she could glimpse a part of the Dark Mark.

"That doesn't mean what you think it does," he said, stepping back and pulling the sleeve up, letting her see the full Mark. "This only means I am willing to do anything to protect my family."

"You're wrong," she said. "That Mark is a symbol of their beliefs. Bearing it makes you one of them, one of those stupid, arrogant wizards that think blood matters above all else. Wizards that think killing those different from them is the right thing to do."

"It's not…"

"I am a Mudblood, Bill," she yelled at him. "A filthy Mudblood. Don't you know what that Mark means to me and to others like me?"

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "This Mark is nothing but a war scar. It is a curse I took to save the ones that matter to me. To save you. Look at me!" he yelled, when he noticed her eyes were still on his arm. "I took this Mark to protect you," he said when their gazes met. "There is nothing I wouldn't be willing to do."

She felt the tears well in her eyes at his words. There had been a time when she would have been willing to give everything up for her loved ones, too, and when she had had others that would've done the same for her. There were still friends she would give everything up for, but she had so little left to give, it felt as if the meaning was somehow lost, as if her sacrifice didn't seem enough anymore.

She wondered if he was telling her the truth, if he really had done it all to protect her and his brothers. Did it matter, anyway? Would that be reason enough to justify his betrayal?

"Stop thinking," he yelled angrily, his hands back on her shoulders, pulling her to him. "You know it's true, I know you do. Stop thinking."

"I can't," she said. "I don't…"

His lips on hers interrupted her sentence and her thoughts again, but the kiss was nothing like it had been before. This time it wasn't soft or tender. It was feral, desperate, and she could feel his need for her understanding in it.

The love she felt for him, the need, mixed in her mind with the anger at his actions, and she didn't respond, but didn't stop him either.

He pushed her back against the wall, his body flush against hers as he kissed her, the heat of his body ripping an involuntary gasp from her throat. He took the opportunity and deepened the kiss, blowing her mind away.

She could feel his need like her own, and she couldn't remember a time when she had felt that way, when she had felt wanted; a time when the pain and sorrow had been pushed to the background.

"Don't fight it," he growled against her lips. "I know you've felt it too, I know you want this. Just let go."

When she felt his hands on her body, nothing else mattered anymore. He was just Bill, her Bill, the wizard she had known for so long. He was the handsome, intelligent, charming man she had met when she was just a child, the man she had been intrigued by first, and then had grown to love.

How could she think of anything else when he was touching her in that way, when he was slipping his hands under her shirt and kissing her neck, when he was growling low against her ear as his body pushed closer to hers.

She felt his hair, soft around her fingers, and she had no idea when she had moved her hands to his head, when she had started responding to the kiss, pulling him to her with the same intensity as he did.

She wasn't thinking when her hands trailed down his shoulders, down his arms, pulling the heavy cloak off of him and letting it pool around his feet. She wasn't thinking when he pulled back from her slightly, just long enough to push her shirt up and take it off, then unclasp her bra and let it fall, nor when she wrapped her arms around his neck the second they were free, bringing him closer and kissing him again.

It was instincts driving her every move, a feral need to have him, matched by his own. There was nothing gentle in their need. It was rough, fast, almost animalistic.

"Fuck," she moaned, when he pushed one of his legs between hers, his thigh rubbing deliciously against her core as she felt his erection against her leg, heard his low growl against her ear.

Never in her life had she felt anything more intense, never had she known need as she did now. She had to touch him, had to feel his skin against hers, his tongue against hers, dominating. She had to have him.

With trembling hands she reached between them, undoing the few buttons left in his shirt before pushing it down his arms and letting it fall next to the cloak. His chest was hard, toned, his skin warmer than any she had ever touched. When he pulled her to him again, the contact intensified, his bare chest against hers, making her feel as hot as he felt under her touch.

"Need you," she moaned against his lips, trying to reach between them again, but he pushed her hands away, taking both her wrists in one of his large hands, pinning them above her head, as he moved the other one between them, easily undoing her jeans and pushing them down her legs, along with her knickers.

"Please, Bill," she whispered, when she felt his fingers between her legs, teasing one second, slipping inside the next.

"Merlin," he groaned, his fingers picking up speed. "So warm, so wet."

A whimper left her lips, caused by his words and actions alike. She wrapped one of her legs around his hips, trying to pull him closer, trying to tell him without words what she needed of him.

"I'm gonna fuck you witch," he growled, his thumb finding her clit, driving her insane with pleasure and need. "Is that what you want? Do you want me to fuck you right here, fuck you so hard you can't walk?" he asked, and she whimpered, unable to form words. "Say it," he growled, moving his fingers faster, harder, pushing her to the brink, but not allowing her completion. "Tell me."

"Yes. Yes, please, Bill," she cried, unable to help herself, her hips moving against his fingers, asking for more. It was as if her brain was not in charge anymore, and the need for him drove her every move, her every word.

"Yes what? Say it!"

"Gods, please, fuck me. Fuck me, Bill," she moaned, and then he kissed her again, muffling her screams as he made her come.

Again, she wasn't sure how it had happened. One second, her muscles were contracting around Bill's fingers as a mind blowing orgasm ripped through her body, the next he was inside her, fucking her like she had begged him to, taking her so hard she knew her back would be bruised from the friction against the wall. But she didn't care. She had wanted him for so long; she could hardly care about anything other than him.

"Merlin, you feel so good," he growled against her ear, pumping harder into her.

She could feel the tension building again, intensified by his words, and she held on to him as best she could, her nails sinking into his shoulders as she encouraged him to continue. No one had ever taken her like that, in such a brutal way, yet so arousing and pleasurable.

His hands were on her hips, his iron-like grip keeping her from falling and moving her against him, his fingers digging into her skin, but the pain did nothing but heighten her arousal.

"Should've done this so long ago, months ago, when I found out it was you, that you are my-" He growled, his movements becoming erratic as he neared his own orgasm. "Fuck."

"Bill," she moaned against his ear. She was so close, so very close.

"Tell me you're mine," he growled. "Tell me you won't betray me. Tell me you won't leave me."

She closed her eyes when she saw his turn amber, and turned away when she heard his words. She couldn't tell him that.

"I will protect you, I'll take care of you," he promised, a pleading note in his tone even as he kept moving inside of her. "Tell me you'll stay with me."

She opened her eyes again and turned to him. Was that the same man she had known for so long? Was he still Bill?

But she didn't have time to say anything, even if she had wanted to. With a feral growl, he buried his face into her neck, his teeth sinking into her flesh as he stiffened inside of her, his thumb against her clit pushing her over the edge with him.

It was hard to feel the pain in her neck with the pleasure he was giving her, and the world around her seemed to vanish as she screamed his name.

But then she came back down, her breathing and her heartbeats slowing down, and the reality of the situation hit her like a bucket of cold water.

Unable to believe what had happened, she slowly moved her hand to her neck, wincing when she touched the spot where he had bit her. Her eyes locked on his face, and although she saw his eyes were still amber, his face was almost expressionless, as if he were trying hard not to show any emotion at all.

"What have you done?" she asked, her tone low as she watched the blood in her fingers, from where she had touched her neck. "What have you done to me?" she yelled when he didn't reply, pushing him hard on the chest, making him stumble a few steps back.

His gaze darted from her face to her neck, and for a moment she thought he looked surprised and confused, but the expression was gone in an instant.

"Hermione," he said, taking a step towards her, but she pushed him back.

"Stay away from me," she yelled at him, hastily putting her clothes back on. She had to leave, she had to get out of there. "Where is it?" she mumbled, almost to herself, as she took a few steps away from the wall, her eyes searching the floor for her wand. It couldn't be far away.

"What are you…?"

"Don't touch me," she interrupted, when he tried to reach for her. "You stay away from me!"

She saw something on the ground and reached for it. It was not her wand, it was his.

"Accio wand," she said, using his wand to Summon hers, catching it in midair and turning around, towards the door.

He took a step closer to her, whispering a few words and making his wand fly from her hand toward his, startling her.

Lifting her wand and aiming it at him, she took a step forward.

"Move," she said, when he stood in front of her, standing between her and the door.

"You can't just…"

"Get out of my way," she said, and watched his eyes flash amber again. Unconsciously, she moved her free hand to her neck again, her fingertips touching the mark he had left there. "How could you do this to me?"

"It's not what you think, it's…"

"It is not what I think?" she asked angrily, taking another step closer to her.

"You can't just leave."

"Watch me," she said, taking a step to the side, trying to walk past him, but again he stood in her way.

"You know what will happen if he finds out I'm a traitor."

"Why should I care?"

"Remember what happened to Severus? That's what he'll do to me if you tell him."

"Voldemort killed Snape when he found out he was loyal to the Order."

"No, the Dark Lord killed him because Dumbledore made him believe he was loyal to the Order. But he wasn't."

"You should've thought of that before," she said coldly.

"I can't let you walk away like this, I can't…" he said softly.

"The choice is yours, but if you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me," she told him, determinedly meeting his gaze. He would not scare her, she wouldn't let him.

Finally, after moments of silence that felt like hours, he took a step to the side, and she walked resolutely to the door, not even sparing a glance in his direction.

"It's not like what happened to me," he said, as she reached for the knob. "You won't turn, and you won't be like I was either. I wouldn't do that to you."

She stood still for a moment, not sure what to do or say. He had bit her. She may not know exactly what that meant, what it entailed, but that didn't change anything. No matter what he said now, no matter if his words were true or not, he had bit her. She couldn't just forget that.

Without a word, she twisted the knob and pulled the door open. She had felt the anti-Apparition wards being set when she had gotten there, and she knew she would have to walk out of the room, perhaps even the building, before she could Apparate home.

"Hermione," he said as she stepped outside and she stopped, turning her head only slightly, not sure why she was even listening to him, but feeling she had to.

"I meant what I said," he said softly. "I love you."

She couldn't respond to him, couldn't mutter a single word. Why was life so unfair? Why couldn't she just be happy with him, with the man she had wanted for so long? Why did everything have to be so complicated?

But that was not how the world worked. She had lost so much already, she should've learnt not to hope for anything else by now. Whatever life gave, it took away just as easily, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, she took another step into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind her.

* * *

Well, that's all for today, hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to review! :D


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